


A memory of La Madrina

by pistolrush



Category: Night Street Project (Universe), Original Work, The Sweet Taste
Genre: A witch who is extremely sinister, Adrian is trying to be sweet but he’s a monster guys, And not a nice one, And uses her abilities for crime and profit, F/F, F/M, I did say I love vampires, I guess it is F/F in La Madrina’s mind, La Madrina views torture of women to be a good way to make friends., Mind Control, Torture, Unused part of a novel I am writing, Vampire Biting, Vampires viewing humans as pets, What can be truer than pain, Yandere Vampire Boyfriend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:26:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23663089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pistolrush/pseuds/pistolrush
Summary: Adrian finally convinces his sweet sparrow to tell him how she lost her pinky. Here is a hint, it wasn't an accident.
Relationships: Adrian/Marcus, La Madrina/Her Boys, Naomi/Adrian, Naomi/La Madrina, Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Original Female Character/Original Male Character





	A memory of La Madrina

**Author's Note:**

> This is from a novel I am working on called The Sweet Taste. I don’t know where to put it in the novel. Mostly because the novel is about a morally ambiguous hacker who gets made into a pet for a vampire that goes all Yandere on her after a while. It doesn’t have a happy ending. La Madrina is a bit too big of a character to include into that kind of plot though the main character Naomi did met her once or twice. I mean La Madrina is a witch that made deals with Void entities to gain her powers and is feared by even demons. See just a bit too big for a simple dark Ero romance story between Naomi and Adrian. I liked the scene of how Naomi lost her finger and so I wanted to put it here. I hope you guys like it.

“My dear sparrow, what are these tears for?” Adrian rocked Naomi in his arms as she continued to weep. Her small russet face pressed into the brocade of his embroidered jacket. The earrings he had gotten her clenched too tight in her fist. He could smell the blood. He imagined how the blood would speckle beautifully on the holographic crystals of the earrings. Two birds flying in a sky of red. He resisted the urge to bite her. A good idea as a wail burst forth from her.

“I don’t deserve this.” Her voice, despite being muffled, was firm. Naomi rubbed her face against his chest. “I deserve nothing good... I’m rotten.”

For a moment, Adrian’s face twists in annoyance. What had his other pet said to her? Was a punishment again in order? He makes his face softer for her before kissing her head.

“Don’t say silly things. My little sparrow deserves far better things than this. Hush now and stop this crying.”

Naomi cries even harder at those words.

‘She has been doing that all day, Master.’ Adrian looked up to find Marcus hovering there at the opposite doorway. He would have kneeled, but Adrian shakes his head.

‘Explain this, boy.’ The mental command is clear, like bright neon in Marcus’ head. But he was used to it. He surrendered to his master rummaging in his head, finding no sign of disobedient behavior. Whatever made Naomi cry hadn’t come from his first and dearest pet.

Marcus gives him a pout. ‘I can’t believe you wouldn’t trust in your servant’s obedience, Master. She has been crying all day after finding out what day it was. Nothing I did calmed her down. I am sorry, Master.’ He seemed contrite as Adrian soothed his blood bag.

‘I see. I will handle this. You may join me after.’ Marcus gave him a wide smile, his face the epitome of happiness. Adrian runs a hand down the path of her tears and tilts her chin to meet his eyes. Dark brown eyes met his. She sniffled and let out a small sob. Tried to avoid his gaze, but he wouldn’t allow it.

“My dove, cease your tears.” His voice is gentle, but there is a command there. One she tried to resist. Her weakened mindset made it all too easy for Adrian to make her obey. Naomi stops, her eyes glossy with tears. He could not sort this out if she was still in hysterics.

“Rakas,” he smooths down a baby hair along her edges. “What is troubling you?”

“I get like this sometimes... the things I’ve done.” Tears congested her sweet voice. It sounded ugly to his refined ears. But his love for her made him able to bear it. “I have mercenary morals and the emotional blowback of my life choices... is a little hard to deal with sometimes. Especially now.” There was a hint of bitterness in her voice.

And it displeased him. Didn’t she understand that having all of those silly choices had put her at risk in the first place? Made her exposed to the Night, and all that hunted in it. That in being his pet, Adrian was saving her from far worse things. Like that La Madrina who haunted her dreams or the freedom to make bad choices. Humans could be so unappreciative. And what if, to spite him, she did what his last pet did? That would not do, Peter would never let him live it down.

Some of his displeasure must have shown because she quickly apologized. “I didn’t want you to know. I hide it from you two. I’m sorry, sir. The biggest sin of my life should be mine to bear alone. And I didn’t think you vampires would understand. Might think I was going soft.” She tried to smile and shrug it off, still not comfortable in his arms.

“Will you tell me now about this great sin of yours?” Adrian runs a finger along her jaw. Immediately, she pushed him away.

“No,” she shook her head. “Damn it! I knew you would ask! And the answer is still no!” She was so lovely when angry. So adorable, but that defiance was unacceptable.

“Why? As your lord, shouldn’t you want to bare your soul to me?” Adrian cooed at her. He was giving her a chance to just confess. Adrian knew his little sparrow had committed a myriad of sins. It made her blood all the sweeter for it. Her shame and sorrow was tiresome, however. If Naomi was to become a good pet, shame had no place in her mind. Regrets even less.

“No. The only thing you’ll ever know is I caused my best friend, the one person I cared about beside my family, to die.” She let her breath out in a huff. Tears came down her cheeks despite his earlier command. This was progress, more than he had gotten in quite a few months. He hated to see her cry because those feelings made her blood bitter.

But maybe if Naomi let it out, he could break down more of her defenses. Get her to let go of these dull regrets. Make her sweet and compliant. He put a gentle command in her head, soft and effervescent among the white noise of her guilt-ridden thoughts.

‘Tell me more sweet one. Let me be your confessional booth.’ He nuzzled her braided hair with a sigh. Matching his breathing with hers in a show of sympathy. ‘Your sins are safe with me, your master. Trust in me.’ She looks him in the eyes, and there is a flicker of red along her brown pupils.

“You wondered why La Madrina spared my life? I will tell you why. We got greedy and then stupid. Everyone knows you don’t steal from people like that. If I hadn’t needed more, maybe she... maybe I could have...”

“I will listen without judgement, sweet sparrow. My darling pet, please don’t bottle this up anymore.”

“Drink my blood, sir. She did something to me and whenever I try to speak about it, I can’t.” Naomi offers her long brown throat, the blood vessels ever so inviting under the skin. He remembered her missing pinkie, the way she would hide her disfigured hand. The hint of the cosmic that intrigued him...

“She bewitched you?” She nods her head. That cocky little witch! The next time he saw her, he would insist that he get her finger back. A witch like that must use it to keep her silent. No one hurts his pets! Witch or no witch, she would regret it if La Madrina or her men had violated her. His rage was not visible. “Rakas, I will take a small bite.”

3 months ago

Naomi tried to keep down a squeal of terror once the hood came off. She frantically looks around, disorientation making her terror flare up even worse than before. She was lying on a concrete floor on the side. This outcome had been inevitable, but the shock of her capture still made her head spin. How could she have missed the signs?

It had been a good day. Coffee with her girlfriend Leah, who had promised her a good time after work. The sun had been shining. She had even kneeled to pet the neighborhood cat near an alleyway.

She noticed the guy in a black suit walking past her then. He smiled at them, but Naomi’s gut tightened. Perhaps it was her anxiety or the fact that she and her friends just stole from some terrible people. But the man, beautifully androgynous, pinged her watch out radar. He was overdressed for this neighborhood, for instance. Most of the people here were artist types. Dressed in casual or alternative fashion. But he wore a three piece suit. Shoes so shiny, the light on them made rainbows. And he moved strangely. Something about his gait made her uncomfortable. Besides, who wears a fedora these days?

‘Time to go’, she thought. But as she ran to catch her bus to work, Naomi had let the strange encounter slip her mind. She was buzzing on two energy drinks and the anxiety that her role on this project had concluded. She muffled thoughts of the cartel and the danger the Flock had put her in under the worry of finding a new job. She didn’t want to work with the Flock again. Not after this last go around. That was too dangerous, and she couldn’t afford excitement like that in her life. Bringing it home to her family was even less inviting proposition, though she would miss the money.

They covered the office in blood when she got there. Her temporary employers lay dead and their blood soaked the carpet. Naomi almost dropped her computer bag in shock, but she quickly recovered. She had to get out of here. She was a black woman at the scene of a violent crime scene. And while it was clear she didn’t do this, but fuck... this looked bad!

Panic bubbles in her veins, making her feel both heavy and giddy. Visions of being taken to jail fluttered through her head. It disgusted her how it wasn’t the loss of life that bothered her but the potential repercussions for her. She wanted to throw up from the shame.

It was then that cold steel trails along her bare shoulders. It was a gentle caress, almost sweet despite the sting of a cut being formed. Naomi feels blood drip down onto her clothes.

“Little one, you picked the best day to come into the office.” The voice, heavily accented, purred in her ear. She would have appreciated it more in different circumstances. Now, all Naomi felt was a bone-deep chill in her heart. A whimper comes from deep inside of her as a steel clawed hand takes hers.

It merely holds it before turning her around slowly. Naomi tries to close her eyes, but it is already too late. She catches sight of his black and blue eyes, of the fine-boned features on his blood-streaked light brown face. His lips quirk up into a smile as Naomi whimpers again, feels a full on babbling fit about to erupt from her mouth.

‘Because oh God, it is him! The right hand of La Madrina! And if he was here, I am going to...’ She can’t bring herself to think more because to think of the natural conclusion made her want to weep. This man massacred these poor people. One of them was wearing their tongue... Naomi feels her throat burn as her breakfast threatens to creep back up. She retched.

“Now, don’t do that. If you were going to die, it would have happened already.” The man strokes her face. Her cheek opened. But she does not cry out. “Besides, I can’t kill you when Mama wants to see you.”

Her memory become hazy after that. There must have been something on those claws. Everything seemed tilted. Things seemed to slow down, and she had slumped into the man’s arms. She remembered someone securing a hood over her face as they walked her into the alley behind the building. People dragging her into a van. Her back aching as she was dumped unceremoniously into this room. Naomi didn’t really have time to see anything on her way here. It had felt like watching the world from under a film filter.

Naomi wished for that feeling back. All of her anxiety and terror seemed to come back harder. The feeling of being a pig in an abattoir made her want to scream. But it was useless. There was a gag in her mouth, bloody spit drooling onto her shirt and the floor. The amount of it disgusted her. They placed it to keep her quiet; she supposed. They wanted their money, and she didn’t have it. Torture was definitely in the cards to help jog her memory. And screaming was loud.

Naomi disassociated as she heard a door open. She would die here. Covered in her own drool and blood, wearing a fucking Slaughter shirt. Naomi hated Slaughter. They were a terrible fucking band. What was she thinking wearing the damn thing out to work? God, the police would find her corpse violated and tortured but most embarrassingly enough dressed in a Slaughter shirt. Naomi stops that train of thought. She knew distracting herself would not help the rapidly building terror. And she needed to be coherent and lucid when the questions started coming.

“The girl is awake. Get her up.” That same voice from before. The one with the sharp claws. There was another voice speaking Spanish with a more familiar accent that easily sat her up. Their hands roamed along her back for a moment too long. This one smelled like cinnamon and old dirt. Despite her circumstances, it was a comforting smell.

Naomi would have appreciated that more if they didn’t suddenly yank her off of the floor by her arms. The pain was startling, drew her out of her rambling thoughts. She lets out a muffled yelp. There was the same man in the suit from before and she whimpered.

“Ah, Mrs. Washington. Nice to meet you. I hope you’re not too uncomfortable? Trip go okay despite those corpses beside you?” The man steps forward, and she notices that his eyes are also black and neon blue. Naomi startles, trying to back up but the man’s friend was right there keeping her from going too far. Those had to be contact lenses. There was no other way someone could have...

“Silly of me, you can’t talk with this in your mouth can you?” The man with claws behind her speaks rapidly in Spanish. “Oh, I know Mateo. Sorry, little girl, La Madrina doesn’t want this out just yet.” He taps the gag before turning on his heel. He beckons with his hands, not even looking back. The man pushed Naomi to get her moving. She gets the message, hating that she didn’t resist.

‘What would be the point? What would happen would happen. There was no point in making this worse for myself.’ She thought as they led her down a bare hallway. This wasn’t a movie, and she was no wisecracking badass that could fight her way out of this. Naomi looks down at her old battered chucks. Hoping if she didn’t see too many faces, maybe she’d get out this alive. The person behind her laughs and says something to the man in the suit. Who also laughs as he opens a door.

“Girl, do you think not seeing my face will save you? You already saw my brother’s face.” The person behind her runs a hand along her back. She stops and shakes her head. Feeling the tears trail hot down her brown cheeks. No, but they really didn’t have to be such dicks about it. Allow her a little hope. She hiccups and cries more.

“Mateo, remember what Mama said. Don’t be cruel... yet. That is Mama’s job.” They both laugh at that. One of them strokes her face, and she flinches as if hit.

They make her kneel once she enters the room. She winces when they remove the gag. Incense makes her eyes sting. Through her tears, she notices a familiar pale body on the floor. Surrounded by candles and looking as if they had scooped everything out of the chest, blood in a puddle around it. They sprinkled flowers and whiskey on her. But she recognizes Leah.

“No!” The babbling fit that she had been trying to keep down came spilling out. “She didn’t do anything! She knew nothing!” Naomi tries to go over to her body. Somehow make this okay, even if that was an illogical thought. Someone yanks her back by her braids. “She did nothing! Why!?” Her words devolved into sobs as she sat there horrified.

“Because she knew you and I needed to get here. Besides, a virgin’s heart is an ingredient I rarely pass up on.” A soft voice brings her gaze up from the dead body of her friend to the corner of the room.

There is a woman there, skin still slick from her friend’s blood. She is sharp featured and slim. The type of beauty that made Naomi temporarily forget that her friend’s dead body was cooling in front of her. Her hair is dark violet, eyes a light honey brown. She looks more normal than her men. But Naomi is not fooled. There was an otherworldly mien about her that transfixed Naomi as she walked to her. The shadows were her friend.

A buzzing sensation goes off in Naomi’s head as she steps closer. Again there is a sensation of the world starting to drift. But it scares Naomi. The sensation is less pleasant, like she is one step away from a cliff edge. She stalks toward them with a smile. Terror seizes her heart. Everything about her makes her frightened but drawn to her.

Vaguely she hears the two men say with reverence, “Mama. Our lovely Madrina”

She takes a cigarillo from the man in the suit who looks at her with complete love in his eyes. The other man all but knees Naomi in the back in his rush to light the cigarillo. Naomi watches her draw a deep breath of the smoke into her mouth.

This was La Madrina, and she looked exactly like what they reputed her to be. A grim beauty that made her think of black magic and the end of the light. And she had murdered Leah. Naomi wants to laugh.

“Those are a nasty habit. They’ll kill you.” The words tumble out of Naomi’s mouth before she could stop it. She wanted to kick herself for that stupid bit of sarcasm. The man behind her gave her braids a sharp tug while the other slapped her hard across her face. Then someone kicked in her in the stomach, and she doubled over.

“Stop.” They promptly stopped and let Naomi recover. She sucked in a deep breath before coughing, then took another breath. A cool hand rubs her back. “Funny girl, concerned for me even though I killed your friend? Though I think stealing is a bit more dangerous. Especially if you steal from me. You may speak.”

“So you are… La Madrina. The witch of the woods. Lady of the void.” Naomi nervously rattles off her known nicknames. Things whispered of in the darker places of the internet. The woman nods, taking another deep puff on the cigarillo. Naomi jumped when she laughed. She had expected her to put it out on her face.

“People still call me that last one. I would think the mother of monsters would be more popular. Santiago, explain to the human what I want.” She slaps Naomi’s back playfully.

The man in the suit’s voice was full of admiration for his boss. “La Madrina says you have three options: Either we kill you and find out what we want anyway, cut off your hands joint by joint until you tell us what you know, or you willingly tell us who is the Dove and who is the Pigeon.”

Naomi stops trembling. She shakes her head and keeps her mouth shut. Despite her terror, she would not betray the Flock. A clawed hand slides up her back, cool air making the fresh cuts sting. That same hand cups her chin, making her look up at Mateo’s unnatural eyes.

“I don’t know.” Naomi’s face is hard despite the tears. Her breath comes out in a harsh pant, then a gasp as the claw cuts her chin.

“Mother is being generous with you. But don’t keep her waiting... it’s rude.” His lips quirk up in a gentle smile. She shakes her head, movement small to keep from cutting her face again.

“That is just too bad, and here we were giving you a chance to avoid all this unpleasantness...” The one in the suit now, out of the range of her vision. A flicker of black that set her teeth on edge.

“Boy, I can speak for myself. Stop playing with your food and go get me the stool. It looks like we have a more loyal member than before.” Madrina smiles and Naomi wishes that she didn’t see that some of her friend’s hair was in her teeth. The stool is more like a piece of plywood attached to a wooden pole. Naomi notes with dismay that there are bits of dried blood and brain on it.

“May I have her fingers once you cut them off, Mama?” Mateo asks as she is quickly bent over, her hands spread out before her on the wood. The one in the suit holds her down by the wrists. Naomi hyperventilates, puts up a struggle despite the claws. Madrina seems to pull a dagger out of thin air and shadow.

“No, you had your meal at her office.” She focuses on Naomi again. “Shimmerhorn gave this blade to me, so this will hurt. It still holds the cold of the Eternal Storm within.” Her voice was a caress against her skin. “I understand loyalty, however, those of the Flock do not warrant the pain this blade will bring. I will give you a chance before I cut.”

“I said I don’t fucking know.” Naomi tries to struggle as Madrina sighs and brings the blade down toward her right hand. She can feel the sting of the blade, terror making her heart waltz. “I DON’T KNOW!”

“Sweet little liar. So loyal. I am sorry about this.” Madrina brings the blade down on Naomi’s right pinky. It is grim and as promised makes Naomi scream with pain. The metal of the dagger like a screaming blizzard along her nerves. It seeps into her bones. Naomi almost vomits, but she keeps it down. She wants to faint.

The compound fracture was sweeter than this. Sweat beads down her skin, making her cuts sting. Then she makes another cut, severing the first joint of Naomi’s finger, and she vomits this time.

Their connection almost breaks at the memory of it. Adrian having to weave himself tighter to hold on to her bucking mind. They both shudder at the pain. He understood why Naomi was reluctant to revisit this.

“Shush, dear. Remember, you brought this on yourself. We never had to do this. All you had to do was talk.” She briefly strokes her face before picking up her severed joint. Mateo quickly opens a nearby glass bottle, and she drops it inside. There are no claws on his hands now. Naomi takes deep breaths and would have fallen over if she wasn’t so scared. She sobs even as the one in the suit wipes at her face.

“I am feeling bad, children. Should I tell her how I found her?” La Madrina pets her head.

“Why not? Let’s see if she’ll be so loyal after you tell her Mama.” Mateo smiles sweetly. Naomi wasn’t an idiot or usually not one, because stealing from these people was the worst mistake she had even made. And that included poisoning her uncle.

If she survived this, Naomi would never work with the Flock again. She’d get a normal job like everyone else. But that was beside the point, Naomi knew, that only a member of the Flock could have given up her location.

“I assume it was because of someone talking.” Her voice is rough from the hurt of it. She yelps when La Madrina raps her knuckles with the knife. Even that brief contact makes her want to fall over and huddle into a ball.

“Be quiet. I never asked you to talk, dear. But aren’t we clever?” She takes the knife off of Naomi’s hand and she can breathe normally again. “Yes, the Hawk told us where to find you. But unlike you, she gave you up quick, little sparrow. I only had to take out the knife, and she was telling me everything. Interesting set-up your group has... the whole members only knowing about two others of the group at random. I shot her, after. Can’t stand weakness like that. None of my men would squeal like she did.” She laughs and her men laugh with her.

“If your way of asking was as nice as this, no wonder she talked but you are not getting a word out of me.” Naomi tried to sound brave she instead sounds resigned.

“Before you try to play the martyr, let me tell you how I found your overly privileged friend. She was on her yacht. Did you know she even had one? Or that her father is a hedge fund manager?” Naomi looked down at her hands, the freshly cut finger still oozing blood on the wood. “That girl never knew hardships. She was partying on that boat surrounded by pretty people and drugs. Living it up in my country with my money. Being so proud of herself.”

“That has nothing to do with me. She had the right to spend her share however she wanted to.”

‘The stupid bitch! Hadn’t the agreement been to not flaunt the money and stay out of Argentina.’ One man made a fake commiserating noise. Naomi looked at him like a basilisk.

“See that is where you’re wrong, it has everything to do with you. Aren’t you the only negra? And aren’t you the only one that is poor? The rest probably have never known desperate times. They were only doing the robbery to increase their wealth. But you are different, yes? You had needs to take care of. And I can respect that.” He wipes at her tears and mess with his handkerchief.

“I don’t understand what you’re going on about. I just code programs and try to pay my bills on...” La Madrina slaps her with the knife again and she winces in pain.

“Stop that lying sweetie. That bitch, the entire group in fact, probably thought how easy it is to throw your ass under a bus. Tell me something, where is your share? My boys watched you for days, and you are still at that shitty job. Where is your fun times?”

“That is none of your business, La Madrina. Maybe some of us don’t need fun times and big money.” Naomi would have said more, but then Mateo let a picture of her mother flutter down onto the stool. She felt her mouth go dry.

“I have a feeling your momma got it, yes? You paid her medical bills for her. What a sweet girl you are. You care so much for her. I can understand that.” She could feel the insincerity in his voice.

Naomi says nothing. Her tongue felt too big to speak. Madrina takes her bleeding hand in hers. “I wonder how you’ll explain this to your mother. An accident perhaps, or some kind of injury... So which finger do you want to give me next?”

“I’m not talking.” Please, just give this witch what she wants. Adrian wanted to scream at her. Why be so damn loyal to them when I had to make you fear me? What is the point of this game?

“Too bad,” Mateo whispered hotly into her ear. The sting of the blade made her scream. She cracks then, thinking of the state of her dead body. Fingers missing, funeral having to be closed casket. Her family weeping over her stupidity. Her nieces unprotected against her aunt and uncle… That could not happen.

“Wait! Stop! I’ll tell you what you want!”

Adrian pulls his fangs out of Naomi’s neck and giggles. Her taste brought to mind the giddy days of spring. Made his limbs tremble in delight. And he was glad to see the memory. His little pet wasn’t so stupid after all. And her loyalty to the ones she loved, it ran deeper than he could have thought. Especially to refuse La Madrina anything.

He uses his blood magic to heal the two punctures in her neck and held her close. Adrian had much to ponder. It might take some time and work, but he intended to turn that fierce loyalty to himself. And he had so much more pleasant rewards than not dying. He hums to her and kisses her cheek as she whispers something in Finnish.

“Sweet, sweet Naomi. So loyal and never rewarded for it until now.” His sweet sparrow had the potential to be a loyal and great pet if cultivated properly. And he would plot to make sure she and her sweet blood was all his.


End file.
